


Cinnamon Starbread

by araydre



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Baking, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 00:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araydre/pseuds/araydre
Summary: There's one thing the Winter Soldier likes more than fighting or brooding





	Cinnamon Starbread

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Feelingsinwinter ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelingsinwinter/pseuds/Feelingsinwinter), [Fancy_Dragonqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/pseuds/Fancy_Dragonqueen), [dapperanachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism/pseuds/dapperanachronism), [mistrstank](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingdarkly/pseuds/mistrstank) and [wednesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/pseuds/wednesday) for betareading, cheering and being wonderful friends!

Tony was baking. It was not an usual pastime, but this night he had cravings. So cinnamon starbread it was. The recipe was easy and the result was delicious.

At some point while he was waiting for the dough to refrigerate and drinking his second coffee, Nat had wandered in and stolen his mug. Not long after that Clint appeared like a silent shadow. The Avengers were each beset by their own demons and hunted by insomnia; apparently Tony’s baking was interesting enough for them to stick around and “watch him burn down the Tower” as Clint had remarked. Nat had just smiled a secretive little smile and settled in to wait.

Ha! Like he would do that. Well maybe just the workshop, the kitchen was safe as it would get.

While Tony was getting himself a third mug of coffee, the timer beeped, indicating the dough was ready. Not bothering to look for the elusive rolling pin, he got to work with the layers, flattening them out with a bottle. Layer - filling - layer - filling, and repeat. It was a soothing process, the smell of the cinnamon relaxing and homely, reminiscent of Ana’s kitchen.

The pastry was in the oven, baking, and the three sleepless Avengers sitting in companionable silence.

Soon the smell of cinnamon and caramelizing sugar started wafting from the oven and summoned more of the team - Steve strode in brightly awake and dressed in running gear.

“Good morning!” He greeted. 

“It’s not morning, it’s still night, 4 am is not morning,” Clint complained, woken up from the doze he had fallen in. 

Steve kindly didn’t ask why he was awake. 

“Ok, since you are here, don’t run off yet, the starbread will be ready in 5 minutes.” Tony said.

“I should go, it’s time for my laps.”

“You can take 10 minutes to enjoy the nice things in life, sit down for a bit.”

Next came Bucky, shuffling like a sleep deprived zombie, grunting a greeting and heading straight for the refrigerator to drink the juice directly from the carton.

The timer beeped again, and Tony went to retrieve the pastry, sliding it from the cooking sheet onto a dish and leaning the sheet on the stove to cool. He tore off a piece and juggled the piping hot bun from one hand to the other. Steve gathered a stack of saucers and distributed them with pieces of the starbread. 

“This smells amazing, Tony, thank you for making it!”

“Try to taste it, before saying that,” Clint cut in sceptically and Nat poked him in the ribs. 

“That is no way to say thank you for homemade food,” she said.

Steve went to pass a plate to Bucky and Tony, taking a first bite out of his piece, took a step back to give them some space, when his elbow hit the baking sheet. The sheet fell with a bang and clatter, impossibly loud in the sleepy kitchen. 

Tony watched as if in slow motion, as Bucky’s stance changed to a defensive one, suddenly he was holding a wicked knife reflecting the kitchen lights, and the same steely glint in his eyes. With a shiver running down his back, Tony realized he was standing face to face with the feared Winter Soldier.

Around him the Avengers immediately prepared for battle Nat vaulted over the counter with her own knife in hand, Clint grabbed the empty bottle to use as a bludgeon and Steve was in a half crouch with fists raised for a fight. The plates and pastries were left scattered around the kitchen floor.

Seeing few ways out of this without a fight, Tony took a step forward. 

“Why don’t you try this, Snowflake?” he offered his piece of the starbread.

“Tony, get back!” Steve hissed.

Tony could hear the others moving behind him. 

“I’m fine, you just stay where you are, don’t make this into a fight,” he replied as calmly as he could manage. 

“See, it’s not poisoned, I just ate some of it. Try it,” he offered the piece to the Soldier again.

“Stark,” the Soldier identified him.

“You know my name! Good, now let’s all sit down for a nice meal! Cold cinnamon buns are no fun.”

It was like dealing with a feral cat, one that that might just as well bite your fingers off as take the treat. The Soldier took a step closer, transferring his knife to the left hand. Tony stood still and held out his offering.

Slowly the Soldier straightened out of of his battle ready stance and reached for the pastry, took it, sniffed at it suspiciously and tried a bite. His expression changed to one of wonder and he devoured the piece in two bites. 

“Is there more?”

“Sure! As much as you like,” Tony passed him the plate with the rest of the starbread and watched in awe as it disappeared in moments.

With a contented humm the Soldier shivered and suddenly in his place stood Bucky Barnes, looking confusedly at the mess the kitchen had become.

“Oh god, did he come out?”

“Bucky!” Steve exclaimed and rushed to hug his friend.

“Are you crazy?” Clint advanced, the bottle still threateningly raised, at Tony.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“And if it had not? We couldn’t have helped you from that distance. He is dangerous!” Nat hissed at him quietly.

“I know, that’s why I tried to keep this from becoming a fight,” Tony sighed suddenly very tired, “I have read all the files, I know just how dangerous he is, but who can resist my baking?” he finished brightly.

“So all is well that ends well, who is up for another batch of cinnamon buns?” He asked the room. It seemed like no one was, the excitement quite enough for the early morning hour. Steve and Bucky retreated to their floor to calm shaken nerves, as did Nat and Clint and Tony was left with his second batch of starbread and his thoughts alone.

***

That became known as The Kitchen Incident. Bucky started avoiding everyone again in fear of the Soldier coming out uninvited. All of the progress he had made in the previous months seemed lost and Steve rarely left his side, even going so far as to sit outside Bucky’s therapy appointments. Clint and Nat went off on an extended spy mission, Bruce seldom left his own lab and Thor was off to parts unknown. 

Tony shut himself up in his workshop. There was work aplenty and he had no desire to run into the miserable sight that was the pair of supersoldiers. The coffee mugs on his work surfaces seemed to multiply as if by magic and when Friday reminded him of the necessity for food the occasional snack from the workshop kitchenette sated his hunger. The couch in the corner was sufficient to rest on.

On the fifth night of spending time in only the bots’ company, Tony was focused on a diagram, when suddenly he felt as if being watched. The workshop was on lockdown, there could be no one there without Friday knowing, and she was quiet. Tony turned in his chair and there was the Soldier, standing at silent attention, clearly waiting to be noticed.

“You said I could have as much as I like,” the Soldier stated.

“Oh my god, warn a guy! I could have a heart attack like that!” 

The Soldier was still and waited impassively. 

“Ok, what did I say that about?” Tony asked completely caught off guard.

“The sweet thing, you said I could have as much as I like.”

“... I did say that, didn’t I? Let’s go then, up to the kitchen.”

Tony considered his options and turned his back to the Soldier, he had been unaware of his presence long enough to be dead ten times over, there was no reason to be afraid. Right.

“I’ll make you the sweet thing. In exchange show me how you got into my workshop?” Tony said. He had to check up on Friday and the rest of the security systems, but right now keeping the Winter Soldier happy was a priority. Tony lead the way, listening to Dummy and U shuffle worriedly in the recesses of the workshop. In the confined space of the elevator the Soldier’s looming presence was nearly overwhelming. Tony searched for something to say, to fill the silence, but the words dried up on his tongue.

They reached the kitchen in an uncomfortable silence, well uncomfortable for Tony, the Soldier seemed to be completely at peace. Tony went to gather the ingredients and started puttering around the counters.

“See, it’s quite easy,” he said while washing dough from his hands, “just throw all these together and put them into the fridge.”

“Let me get a tablet from the livingroom and then you can show me how you got into the workshop and what you did to Friday.”

The Soldier followed him like a silent shadow, three steps behind, not complaining, not commenting, though also showing no signs of violent intentions. Tony returned to the kitchen with the tablet and laid it on the counter.

“Here, can you show me what you did?” he asked and, wonder of wonders, got a response.

“Your security is lacking in this area,” the Soldier said and nimbly brought up a section Friday’s firewalls. Indeed Tony could now see the problem, and also the cleverly altered code. 

“Can I hire you as a security consultant?” he mumbled while undoing the changes made.

“Boss, I’m so sorry! I could not warn you!” Friday’s distraught voice came over the speakers.

“Not your fault Sweetpea, we’ll make sure this never happens again.”

While Tony was figuring out options to patch up the security hole, the kitchen timer beeped and brought him back to the present situation. 

“Right, the sweet thing,” he got to preparing the starbread. The Soldier watched impassively.

“Now 15 minutes in the oven and you will have your sweet thing,” Tony said and got back to fixing the firewalls. The 15 minutes flew by barely noticed and the timer beeped again.

“Here you are, though it’s too hot to eat straight away. Careful, don’t burn yourself!” Tony exclaimed when the Soldier immediately reached for the treat. If anything the Soldier did could be considered funny, then Tony would have found the ensuing staredown of the Winter Soldier and hot cinnamon buns absolutely ridiculous. The Soldier glared at the plate as if it had personally offended him. 

“Ok, it should now be good to eat, enjoy!”

Tony watched again in amazement as the Soldier tucked in. The starbread, large as it was disappeared in a couple of minutes.

“Thank you,” the Soldier said and retreated from the kitchen, leaving a plate free of even crumbs behind.

So that had just happened. Tony cleaned up the kitchen and returned to the workshop. The bots welcomed him with excited whirrs and beeps.

“All is well, the scary man just wanted some food,” he patted Dummy on the claw when he rolled over to check on Tony’s well being more closely. 

“Friday, play some tunes, we have work to do.”

“Sure thing, Boss!”

Familiar chords filled the workshop and Tony brought up the firewalls looking for more flaws.

***

A few nights later the scene repeated itself. Tony was busy in the workshop, when suddenly turning around he found the Soldier just there.

“You really are trying to give me a heart attack!”

The Soldier was standing impassively, but had the smallest of smirks on his face.

“You said...”

“I know what I said! Let’s go to the the kitchen then, that’s why you are here, right?” 

The Soldier nodded, and Tony wove his way through the floor towards the elevator. 

“I can’t keep calling you the Soldier in my head, what would you prefer?” 

The Soldier was silent.

“Would Winter work?” Tony asked.

“Yes,” Winter replied.

“Wonderful, and you can tell me how you got into the ‘shop again.”

The routine of starbread making was becoming very familiar to Tony. Winter pointed out the way he had used for sneaking into the workshop, and Tony got busy with upgrading his security.

***

The third time Winter turned up in the workshop and surprised Tony, the smirk on his face was clearly noticeable.

“You said...” came the familiar greeting

“I know what I said,” Tony laughed, “let’s go then!”

Tony was immersed in the tablet, figuring out a way to patch up the flaw Winter had used, and didn’t notice a piece of starbread being slid his way over the counter, leaving a sticky trail behind.

“Stark...” 

“Hm? Call me Tony, we are on first name basis now,” Tony muttered.

“Tony...”

“Oh!” Tony raised his eyes and noticed the offering, “Thank you, it was for you, you know?”

Winter just grunted and continued eating contentedly.

***

Judging from the lack of uproar in the Tower, Winter was making his nighttime visits in secret. He had found his way into the workshop four times now, each time startling Tony out of his wits. This morning Tony was in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee, since his kitchenette had run out of grounds. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a familiar shape standing behind his back.

“Winter! You are out in daylight! We have enough flour again, let’s make the cinnamon bread.”

“Is that why I keep waking up from dreams about cinnamon buns, with the taste on my lips?” came the reply in what clearly was Bucky’s voice.

“You keep baking them and I thought I’d ask for some. But you have been baking for the Soldier? He is dangerous, Tony!”

Tony sighed.

“Winter just wants some sweets. He’s been helping me fix up the security around here in exchange.”

“And what, you just let him play around with your systems?” Bucky was getting incensed.

“There is not much letting involved ...” Tony was starting to turn a bit sheepish. In truth Winter just did as he pleased.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Long enough to know he has no ill intentions. Look, I can show you the feeds, he comes, asks for the sweet thing and goes back. He could wreak havoc, but he is perfectly polite and always returns to your room.”

“I want you to tell me the next time he appears,” it was Bucky’s turn to sigh, “I can’t keep him contained.”

“Then I want you to stop hiding, it is doing no one any good, and you don’t need to keep Winter contained, he just needs someone to show him some trust.

“You keep calling him Winter.”

“It’s the name he agreed to. So, do you want those cinnamon buns?”

“If you would,” Bucky was sounding resigned. 

“Excellent choice,” Tony prepared a mug of coffee from the finished pot and got to baking.

***

A few weeks later, after several visits from Winter and corresponding meetings with Bucky, Tony considered his workshop, and the Tower, excellently secured against cyber attacks. The only problem was that after that the visits from Winter stopped, just when he was starting to think of him as a friend.

***

The next night found Tony turning around and coming face to face with murderously frowning Winter.

“You said...”

“I know what I said, no need to frown like ...” Tony started, but was interrupted.

“No! Are we under attack? You said the workshop was secure, but I found a flaw in the system. One that was not there before,” that was the longest Winter had spoken.

“Ah, no, we are not under attack. That was an invitation for you to visit.”

“You should have written a note! Do not leave deliberate vulnerabilities.” Winter ordered.

“A note?” Tony asked surprised.

“Yes, Barnes and I communicate through notes. You can as well.”

“Alright, let me put the security back in order and we can go upstairs,” Tony said.

“Do that,” Winter was frowning marginally less, waiting patiently while Tony worked.

When they entered the kitchen, Steve was there, staring blankly into the fridge.

“Hi, Steve! Wasn’t expecting you here at this hour.”

“Tony,” Steve shook himself out of his daze, “Bucky.”

“Captain,” Winter greeted stiffly.

“You are not Bucky. Hello, Winter.”

“So we are all here for some food, so let’s not make a big deal out of it. Steve, would you like some cinnamon buns too?” Tony asked brightly.

“I won’t say no, if you are baking,” Steve replied.

The kitchen settled into awkward silence, only broken by Tony’s shuffling about with the ingredients. The two supersoldiers seated themselves on the opposite sides of counter, staring at each other. Steve was clearly looking for words, while Winter was content to remain silent.

“So, this is awkward. But I was thinking, Steve, do you think Winter could join us for a team meal sometime, I mean I would like to introduce him to more than cinnamon buns. Winter, what do you think?”

Winter just shrugged.

“That would depend on Bucky more than me,” Steve broke his staring.

“Bucky’s been talking about you, Winter, said you have been socializing ...” he continued, seemingly still at loss for words.

“Winter’s been great!” said Tony over his shoulder.

Winter smiled slightly at the praise and Steve looked at him pensively.

“Alright!” Tony dusted off his hands, “let’s go watch some cartoons while the dough chills. Friday, queue up something appropriate!”

“Already done, Boss!”

“Are you sure that’s what we should be doing?” asked Steve.

“I’m sure! Winter, have you ever seen a cartoon?” 

“No,” came the short response.

“See, it will be good!”

“Oh, this is a sequel to Frozen, remember that?” the screen was showing Elsa arranging a cake.

Winter watched in rapt attention as the characters sung and danced across the screen, tiny snowmen attempting to eat a birthday cake. Steve’s watching was more centered on Winter himself. When the timer beeped, the short movie was half way done, so no one got up, but Winter looked at the kitchen consideringly.

“It’s OK to finish watching, the dough will be better the longer it sits,” Tony said.

The movie was finished and they returned to the kitchen and Tony started shaping the starbread, Winter watching his every move like always. The pastry went into the oven and all three of them settled in to wait. Soon the kitchen smelled deliciously of cinnamon and sugar and they were watching the oven impatiently. When the timer beeped again Tony brought out the treat.

“Winter, would you sift on the powdered sugar?” 

Winter nodded and got to the task assigned to him with single minded attention, brows furrowed and tongue peeking out a little.

“I see what you mean, Tony,” Steve said quietly.

***

Finally the whole team was back in the Tower. A team dinner was announced and everyone gathered for a meal. After some negotiation, it was Winters turn to sit at the table. Tony watched as he arrived in the room looking apprehensive. The chatter died for a moment, but took up again like nothing was out of ordinary. Winter sat bracketed by Steve and Tony and ate silently. Every once in a while Steve would shift a morsel of something delicious onto Winter’s plate for him to try out, as well as all the puddings.

“So, Winter, now that you have tried different things, what do you like?” Tony asked.

“I like the cinnamon starbread best. Because you make it,” came the answer.


End file.
